Family Bonds
by redfieldc-25
Summary: Young Jon and Arya walk through the woods of Winterfell and encounter wildlings. Jon's injured and wakes up to a surprising nurse.


"Ooof!" Jon grunted when he hit the ground hard, his practice sword falling from his hand. Theon Greyjoy stood over him, chuckling as he pointed the tip of his own practice sword at Jon's throat. "Yield bastard," he stated smugly. Jon only scowled at the older boy while Rodrik and Robb looked on from the side, along with others. "I said yield," Theon said, pressing the wood against Jon's throat.

"Jon!" Rodrik's voice boomed, both boys looked over to him, the Master-at-Arms had his arms crossed and he raised a brow, hinting Jon should yield so they can move on.

Jon did not like the idea of yielding to his father's ward, even if the boy was five years his senior. Jon's grey eyes moved back to Theon who was grinning at Rodrik. What he wouldn't give to wipe that look off his face. Jon kicked his foot out, hitting Theon just below the knee and made the joint buckle. He shoved the sword from his throat and punched Theon in the face. Before the other boy could retaliate Jon picked up his sword and climbed to his feet quickly.

"That is not fair!" Theon yelled as he stood as well, turning to face Ser Rodrik. "He was down, he dropped his sword. He should have yielded to me!"

Rodrik stroked his whiskers as he watched the two of them. "You need to man up, accept the mistakes you make Theon. Never turn your back on a man, even if he is down. And Jon, yield when you loose. Next time I won't give you the hint during the spar," he stated. "That's enough for today," he gave Robb a slight push towards the armory to put away their padding and practice swords.

Jon was about to follow his half-brother when Theon turned on him, grabbed his shirt by the neck and shook him. "You took that victory from me bastard. You're no better than your damned mother. I hear she jumped from a cliff because your stupid father decided to take you here and ruin everyone's lives," he growled. Theon shoved him back and Jon could feel his face getting hot. Then he was moving without thinking.

He brought the blade down against Theon's shoulder as hard as he could and watched the older boy fall but hit him again before arms were around him and pulling him back. Jon was shouting as he was shouted at and watching Theon get to his feet and come at him but Jory Cassel stepped between them and held the Greyjoy back.

Ser Rodrik pulled his practice sword from his hand and marched him to the armory. "Get that padding off Snow. And go for a walk. Let yourself cool off," he said, putting the sword away and helped Jon with his padding.

"You didn't hear-" Jon started.

"I heard boy, he had no right to say that but he's a Greyjoy. You've got your father's blood and you may not have the name or expectations but your father and some of us expect better of you," Rodrik stated. "Now go. Wherever it is you go to be alone just go and cool off before supper," he told him.

Jon stared at him then walked out of the armoury, passed Robb and the rest of the men who'd come to see what happened between Jon and Theon this time on his way passed the gates. He heard Arya calling his name but continued on his way to the woods.

"Good arm for an eleven year old," Jory remarked when Rodrik exited the armory.

"Hmm, too much fire in that boy though," Rodrik remarked and went off to tell Lord Stark what happened before someone else twisted the story to make it worse than it was.

Jon sat down with a huff at the Godswood and looked at the face in the tree. He wanted to curse the Gods a number of times for making him a bastard. It wasn't all that bad, really. He could deal with most of it and he had for a while already. But he wished his mother was around. Eddard was a good father, did what he could but a good father didn't make up for the loss of a mother.

He'd never known a mother's touch and it was what he longed for the most. Jon's eyes focused on the face in the tree and he prayed silently for just that. As much as he wanted to hate Lady Catelyn he couldn't. He only wanted her to give him the smile she gave her own children, a soft word of encouragement. Anything but those hateful stares he got instead.

"Jon!" Arya sighed as she walked through the woods, her six year old voice still high and more amusing than serious when she tried to sound upset. "I was yelling for you and you didn't listen," she walked up to him. "Septa Mordane and Sansa and Mother are being stupid."

Despite his inner conflict, Jon could not help the smile only Arya could bring to his lips. "And why are they being stupid?" He asked, standing and held his hand out for her and began to walk with her through the woods, letting go of her hand as she picked up a stick and started hacking at some leaves.

"I cut the hair on Sansa's doll," she said, grunting with some effort as she hacked at a bush.

"And why did you cut the hair on your sister's doll?" He asked, curious.

"Because, all of her dolls are the same. Princesses. She needs to have a warrior. A woman who can fight!" She said, turning and holding the stick towards Jon.

"Just like you," he grinned and gave her hair a ruffle, she let out the usual annoyed whine and gave him a light whack with the stick.

"I will be a knight someday. You just wait. And you can be my squire. I don't want to be a Lady," she stated and went back to hacking at the bushes.

Movement caught Jon's eye, the man with a rugged blade, hair and clothes tattered. He'd only heard of wildlings but this man looked truly wild. He reached out and grabbed Arya's shoulder and went to push her back towards the castle but pulled her against him when a second man came out of nowhere behind them.

"A little lord and a little lady hmm?" The man chuckled, his rotten teeth showing as he laughed.

"I'm no lady!" Arya argued. Jon hushed her quickly.

"Which house you from?" The second asked, having come up closer as Jon's focus had been on the one that had spoken first.

"We're not from a house, we're servants. To the Starks," Jon answered, hoping that would make the men leave. Arya looked up at him but didn't say a word.

"This your sister boy? She's pretty, young but pretty." Jon clenched his jaw, holding Arya tighter against himself. "Take a few years before you can spit out some kids eh?" He asked, kneeling in front of Arya, she scowled and thrust the branch into his face, the branch was uneven so whether she meant to or not, the branch speared the wildlings eye which made him reel back with a loud shout of pain.

"Arya run home now!" He said and gave her shove as he felt the other man's hand on his shoulder.

"Stupid bitch!" The man at their feet that was now clutching the stick that stuck out of his eye howled.

Jon elbowed the man holding him and felt an odd pressure in his side, cold and hot. He pushed himself back, causing himself and the first man to fall. He twisted, black dots danced in the corner of his eyes as he threw his fist into the man face, once, twice then a third time and scrambled off of him and in the direction Arya had run. He yelled when he felt something cut into his calf and grabbed a larger branch and swung it across the face of the one Arya had stabbed.

He limbed after her, the cut to his leg was deep and ached horribly, the pressure in his side was insistent.

"Come on," he urged when he found Arya on the road to Winterfell, looking distraught and her hair in tangles. She had tears running down her dirtied cheeks and he picked her up.

"You're hurt," she pointed out, clinging to his neck.

"It's fine Arya," he panted as he began running towards Winterfell. Five minutes later he heard footsteps behind them and began running faster. Everything just felt wrong and his legs began feeling like lead.

He saw some guards from Winterfell and yelled out to them as he approached, they must have seen the men behind them as they yelled into Winterfell and other men came running out. As he reached the walls, he chanced a look behind him and saw one of the men must have been close and was being pushed down by the guards.

Then Arya was being pulled from his arms and he held her tighter. "Jon, it's okay. It's okay," Jory said, his hands under Arya's armpits. Jon let her go and Jory set her down then was by his side again and he was confused as to why he wasn't more concerned about Arya.

"Arya," Jon said and pointed to his younger sister, Jory looked to her then back to Jon. "She's alright, come on," he said and began to lead Jon away. "No, we gotta make sure," he said, his mouth was feeling really dry. The way his body was feeling and Jory's actions were so confusing it was beginning to frustrate Jon.

Jory made Jon begin to move before he started to fall and Rodrik was there, holding his other arm and lifted him off his feet. "Off we go, you're going to be fine Jon," Rodrik grunted but something in his voice made Jon nervous.

When they arrived to his room Maester Luwin was there and Rodrik laid him gently on his side. Jon tried to move and was held in place, he lifted his head and saw the hilt of a blade that had been buried in his side. He could only stare at it then reached towards it. "Don't," Rodrik said firmly as his father came into the room.

Eddard looked from the blade to Jon's face then knelt by his side as things began to blur together and Jon's eyes rolled back in his head, the last thing he saw was a wave of red hair rushing to his father's side.

When Jon first woke he was more dizzy than anything. He felt a bit of pain, but nothing to complain about. He opened his eyes but everything was blurry, he couldn't see an edge to anything as he tried to move around. "No, don't move," a voice to his right said and then gentle hands were on his shoulders, keeping him on his back.

He tried to speak but his tongue, mouth, and throat were so dry the words wouldn't form. The hands left his shoulders and he heard some movement off to the side. Something pressed against his lips which had to be a cup since water soon followed the feeling. He pushed his head up to try and drink but he was only allowed a few mouthfuls before the cup was pulled away.

"Do you feel any pain?" The woman asked. Jon shook his head, laying his head back against the pillows. He remembered his prayer to the Gods now and he drifted off to sleep again, thinking of easier ways they could have let a woman take care of him.

The next time Jon opened his eyes he could hear Arya's voice. She was reading. He let out a groan as he shifted. "Hush Jon. I'm almost through. I have two more pages to read according to Maester Luwin," she advised him.

He heard another voice, the woman's voice from earlier. He'd not heard it before, though there was something familiar about it. "Arya, perhaps you should finish your lessons in your room?"

"I want to stay with Jon though," Arya argued, a bit of a whine in her voice. Jon shifted again and again, drifted off to sleep.

His entire body was aching the next time he woke and thin arms were around him. Soothing, hushing sounds that made him feel safer than he ever had drifted to him in the voice of the woman from earlier. Fingers ran through his dark curls and as he came too from the nightmare he could see better now. It was night out, a good fire burned in the hearth though he still felt a chill. "You're okay, they can't hurt you," she whispered, a tender kiss pressed against his temple and he saw a few strands of red hair.

Jon turned his head slightly, trying to see her. "What's the matter?" She asked, craning her own neck to look at him. Jon's breath caught in his throat when he saw it was Lady Catelyn sitting with him leaning back against her chest.

"What... what are you doing here?" He asked, obviously surprised. She offered him a sad smile as she moved some hair from his face and raked her fingers through his hair.

"You saved Arya Jon," she said quietly. "You were hurt protecting my daughter. You're also my husband's son and you treat my children as your siblings. I'm truly ashamed of how I've treated you."

Jon stayed silent a moment and listened to her breathing, felt her heartbeat against his back. "I thought you hated me," he said after a moment, his voice sounding smaller than he'd have liked.

"No, I never hated you. Just, what you meant, that my husband laid with another woman," she answered, sighing. "Though to be honest Eddard and I, we didn't know each other well when he'd left. He'd done his duty as a husband our first times together but that's all it was. If he'd had died then, I wouldn't have wept for him. But now I love him. And you're part of him. It's not your fault what Ned did but I held you accountable. Please accept my apology Jon," she said quietly.

He nodded his head quickly. "You have nothing to apologize for Lady Stark," he swallowed.

"So much like your father," she smiled and shifted, slipping from under him and got him some more water. "Here, just a few mouthfuls. You don't want to get sick. If you're awake long enough we can try some food."

Jon drank but his grey eyes stayed on Cat's face. He swallowed the water and watched her put the cup down. "I always wanted a mother," he said quietly. She froze, her back to him. "I know it's horrible to think but I used to hope for Robb to mess up his archery or for Sansa to ruin a dress. You were always so proud of them and I just wanted you to be proud of me too," he admitted, his voice growing thick as tears welled up in his eyes.

Catelyn turned and looked at him, seeing him what he truly was at that moment. A child. She knelt by his bed and put her hands on either side of his face. "You have made me more proud than any of my children Jon. You saved your sister when you could have run. I thank you for that. And I love you for that too," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead and sat on the bed as she wound her arms around his torso gently. She pressed another kiss to the top of his head and uttered quiet words into his hair as she held him.

Catelyn rubbed his back as he cried. After he'd quieted down a bit she pulled back and smiled at him. "Everything will be better, I promise," she said and discreetly wiped at her own tears. "But for now you need to lay back. Maester Luwin will have both our heads if we ruin his sewing job," she smiled and checked both his wounds before sitting in her chair where she'd been sitting vigil for three days.

"Can you sit here with me?" He asked and motioned to the space beside him on the bed. Cat smiled and moved to sit beside him, moving an arm around him gently and let him lay his head against her shoulder. "Get some sleep Jon," she whispered. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

Over the next few days Catelyn had barely left Jon's side, though he was awake now she remained at his side, leaving only to fetch food or fresh water or to see to her own needs. She only left for extended time, such as to bathe or change, when Maester Luwin came to change his bandages.

Arya was a constant visitor, much to Septa Mordane's displeasure. Catelyn seemed to accept the fact Arya needed to be at his side as much as she did, though for different reasons. Arya had always loved Jon, perhaps more than she loved Robb. Catelyn's presence was fuelled by guilt and gratitude. But when Arya had gone to bed, Lord Eddard would come to see them, say his goodnights to both before leaving to his own bed for Catelyn wouldn't dare leave Jon alone during the night. He was getting stronger, better, but the chance he could run a fever was still very present.

Every few hours, for a week, Catelyn would wake-up from her sleep, Jon's head resting against her shoulder or lap and she'd lay a hand on his forehead then chest, to make sure he hadn't begun running a fever.

Two weeks after the attack from the wildlings Luwin had removed the silk stitching and nodded his approval at the wounds. He told both Jon and Catelyn to keep them covered for another week. Though Jon was most happy he could get out of bed by then.

It hurt still, both his side and his leg. But Lady Catelyn was by his side, glued there by some force Jon had never known before. If he stumbled, she'd support him, keep him from falling. Once her hands had been on him, steadying him, before he even knew he was going to stumble. He'd asked her how she knew he was going to do that and she gave him a warm smile before replying. "It's a mother's intuition," she pressed a gentle kiss to his temple before urging him on to the dining hall so they could eat with the rest of their family.

*Note* Fill for prompt in asoiafkinkmeme in Round 3.


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